


Unbroken Circle

by which_chartreuse



Category: Daredevil (TV), The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M, Forbidden Love, I sense a theme, Love and fear, Maria mentioned in passing, Post-Canon, Secret Relationship, Secret Wedding, Tags Are Fun, a circle always returns, and ending in the middle, could be canon-compliant, evidence of past violence, kastle - Freeform, love so hard you walk away, melodramatic views of love from a background character, my second AO3 post, starting at the end again
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-06
Updated: 2019-03-06
Packaged: 2019-11-12 18:57:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18016526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/which_chartreuse/pseuds/which_chartreuse
Summary: The young woman, the witness to the union, wondered what it was she’d just seen – the bride wore a white blouse and grey pencil skirt, looking for all the world like a secretary on her lunch break; the groom sported a black eye and blue jeans. But whatever it was that had just transpired, she hoped to know, someday, how it felt to love so fiercely, with such certainty, that she could walk away.-There was an image in my head I had to get out.





	Unbroken Circle

“I will,” his voice was near a whisper, a low rumble in his chest, but she could feel it. Could feel the words vibrate through her fingertips. 

“And do you, Karen Page, take this man, Peter Castiglione, to be your husband? Do you pledge to share your life with him, and to speak the truth to him in love?”

“I do.” 

His field of vision narrowed, and she was all there was. She was sunshine breaking through the darkness, warming him. Though his body remained tense and alert, her blue eyes anchored him like the promise of spring after a long winter.

“Will you comfort him, honor him, and keep him, in sickness and in health, in sorrow and in joy, so long as you both shall live?”

“I will.” She looked into his dark eyes and saw the apprehension slip away, if only for a moment.

“Please exchange the rings.” 

The young woman who had witnessed and signed the license stepped forward, offering the rings with a blush and a small smile. 

“The circle is the symbol of the sun and the earth and the universe. It is a symbol of holiness and of peace.”

His hands trembled as he slid the band home but were steady as she reciprocated. 

“These rings are the symbol of unity, in which your two lives are now joined in one unbroken circle, in which, wherever you go, you will always return to one another in devotion.”

He took her hands back in his, grasping tight, reconnecting to the anchor of her gaze. 

“And so, by the authority vested in me by the State of New York, I pronounce you husband and wife. You may, well…” 

She hadn’t waited. The minister had scarcely gotten “pronounce” out before she stepped into him and pressed her lips to his. He responded immediately, wrapping his arms around her and returning her kiss with a bruising fierceness. 

The young woman’s blush deepened, and the minister gave her a knowing look before gathering the license and making his way back to his office. With a last bashful glance, the girl returned to her bag in the transept and collected her things. 

The newly wed didn’t notice. 

She clung to him, desperate to maintain contact, and he held her as close as he dared. Their kiss was brutal, hungry and aching, and neither wanted to let go. When the primal need for oxygen finally split them, her brow pressed against his and she gasped for air. 

His head spun, a storm of longing and fear. His heart was full with a sensation he hadn’t known he would ever feel again, but also stung with the knowledge of what would come next. 

She searched his face, met his eye. Despite her best efforts, she felt a traitorous tear slip down her cheek. He kissed it away and stepped back, maintaining contact through their intertwined fingers alone. 

They walked slowly up the aisle, their heat radiating back and forth with every breath. At the narthex he stopped and grasped her again, staring into the deep pools of her eyes, wishing he could actually drown there. She read his hunger, but abstained from indulging her own. His thumb ghosted her jawline, traced the pulse in her neck. He fumbled with the clasp of her chain, took her hand, pressed his lips there. 

The ring lay hot against her chest when he returned the necklace, tucking it beneath her blouse. 

He did the same with his own band, joining it with the last remnant of Maria before slipping his chain back over his head. 

“Now we’ll always know,” he said, holding her naked hand to his heart. 

She nodded, a weak smile trying to hold back her tears. His dark, smoldering eyes, his bruised face, his kiss-swollen lips, every part of him called to her. And her heart called back, screaming soundlessly and senselessly, in ecstasy and pain. 

It was clear neither husband nor wife wanted to leave the quiet sanctuary, but she finally withdrew her hand from his chest. She pressed her lips to his damaged cheek and the fire was extinguished. Winter crept back into his veins. 

She stepped through the door first, holding it open for him. He pulled the ballcap from his back pocket and settled it low over his brow before following her. There was a moment’s hesitation on the front steps when their eyes found each other once more, and then she turned west and walked away without looking back. He watched her go, then turned east. 

The young woman, the forgotten witness to their union, wondered what it was she’d just seen – the bride wore a white blouse and grey pencil skirt, looking for all the world like a secretary on her lunch break; the groom sported a black eye and blue jeans. But whatever it was that had just transpired, she hoped to know, someday, how it felt to love so fiercely, with such certainty, that she could walk away.

**Author's Note:**

> At first I thought this would be a drabble from the perspective of the witness, but that isn't how it stayed. I had this image stuck in my head of the two of them turning away from each other outside the church, and wanted it to be clear that Frank loving Karen terrifies him because of what he's been through. I'm not sure that was clear, though. You tell me.  
> There's also a lot more florid metaphors and subtle details than originally intended, and I have know idea if they work.  
> I also need to acknowledge that I borrowed language from several weddings I have attended and should probably cite the various Presbyterian, Episcopal, and UU officiants of the internet for inspiring the minister's ceremony.  
> Finally, this was written mostly straight through over the course of four hours and has not been beta'd or thoroughly proofread. My apologies for any major typos (though I purposefully left in some tricky grammar bending, don't hate me).


End file.
